


Grief Revisited

by GinnyK



Series: Things [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Comfort, Gen, Post-Episode: s01e13 T.R.A.C.K.S.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:12:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyK/pseuds/GinnyK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the team waits to see if Skye will survive, Phil and Jemma have a conversation about the bond Phil and Skye seem to share.  My little version of some backstory for Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief Revisited

Phil sat by the hyperbaric chamber keeping watch over Skye while Fitz went to comfort Simmons.  It had been a very, very long time since the famous, and usually fearless, Agent Coulson had felt so utterly and completely helpless.  He looked through the window at Sky’s pale, still form, willing her to wake up.  Feeling the tears prick at his eyes he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Letting May see him cry was one thing, letting the whole team see he was just as human as they were wasn’t something he really wanted to do.  He was the glue that held them together and at that very moment there was nothing more that they needed, than to stick together. 

“Sir…..Agent Coulson…..Phil.”

Phil jumped at the feel of someone shaking his shoulder.  He slowly looked up to see Simmons standing next to him.  At first he thought he had fallen asleep but a quick look at his watch showed only two or three minutes had passed since he last checked.

“Sorry, guess I zoned out a little.  I’m okay,” he said as he rubbed at his eyes. 

“Sir, you are far from okay.  We are all far from okay,” Jemma replied as she gave him a sad smile.  She turned her attention towards the controls on the chamber.  “We need to get her to the hospital, there is very little I am capable of doing here right now,” she muttered more to herself than to Phil.  Her statement was out of frustration, not to cast blame on anyone.

“Agent May is getting us there as quickly as possible,” Phil blurted out, much harsher than he had ever intended.  Simmons’ head whipped around to face him, before she could say anything Phil stood up quickly, knocking over the chair in the process.  Jemma turned to leave quickly but Phil managed to grab her hand.  With her tears threatening to fall all over again she let him pull her into a hug, one that left both of them in tears, despite his best effort to appear much braver and more sure of the situation than he really felt.

“I’m sorry,” Phil whispered as he ran his hand over her hair.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated as Jemma clung to him like a lifeline.

When they both calmed down a little he let her go and grabbed a handful of tissues off the counter for both of them. 

“I’ll stay with her for a while.  Why don’t you go get changed,” Jemma suggested as she pointed at the bloodstained shirt Phil still wore.  He looked down and nodded in agreement. 

“Call me if…” Phil started before Jemma cut him off.

“I will call if anything changes,” she assured him.

Phil gave a weak smile, pressed his hand to the glass and sent up a silent prayer before heading to his quarters. 

\--------------------------

It was Phil’s intent to just grab the first clean shirt he saw and get back down to sit vigil in the lab.  But as he stepped into his room the rush of adrenaline he had been riding on suddenly plummeted and he started to shake.  He sat down on the edge of the bed, shrugged out of his suit jacket and toed off his shoes.  The small white buttons on his dress shirt proved to be more difficult to undo than he had imagined and in his complete frustration he grabbed the bottom edges of the fabric and pulled, sending the buttons pinging off the walls.  He balled up the shirt and tossed it in the corner of the room, thinking to himself he should probably go shopping the next chance he had as he seemed to have gone through quite a few articles of clothing in the previous three weeks.

He looked down to see that his white t-shirt was also bloodstained.  As he pulled it off over his head he realized the jump he’d taken off the train had left him pretty battered.  In all the rush to complete the mission, make sure his people were safe, and when it had become clear not everyone was, to get Skye back to the Bus, he hadn’t given any thought to what injuries he might have sustained. With a loud sigh he stepped out of his suit pants and padded to the bathroom to take a look in the mirror.

There was a bruise over the back of his left shoulder and one on the outside of his right knee.  For the first time in way too long he seemed to have completed a mission without any facial injuries.  He quickly splashed some cold water on his face and took some Advil before heading back into the bedroom to grab some clean clothes.

After slipping on a light blue dress shirt and navy suit pants Phil sat on the edge of the bed to put his shoes back on.  He reached for his phone and wallet which were sitting on the bedside table.  As he did his eyes fell on the rosary beads sitting next to the book he’d been reading the night before.  He said a quick prayer, put the rosary in the velvet bag and slipped it into his pants pocket.  Deciding to forgo a tie he slipped his arms into the matching suit jacket with a grimace at the pain in his shoulder.

As he entered the lab he saw the seat he’d left Jemma in was now occupied by Ward, while Fitz was pacing around a bit. 

“No change,” Fitz stated simply, answering Phil’s unspoken question.  Phil nodded in response as he glanced through the glass at Skye’s still form.  As Ward didn’t seem to make any effort to move from the chair Phil joined Fitz in pacing around the room for a minute.  He wasn’t watching where he was going and managed to clip his bruised knee against the edge of a cabinet.  Ward and Fitz both started towards him as a loud groan escaped from his lips.  He waved them off but was unable to wave off Simmons who had just entered the lab as he walked into the stainless steel cabinet.  She grabbed him by the arm and steered him towards the lounge.

“I’m okay,” he said, trying to convince both of them he was indeed fine. Simmons all but pushed him onto the couch.

“Do you seriously expect me to believe that?” Jemma replied with a big roll of her eyes.  “What happened?”

“Just a little bruised from jumping off the train,” he explained as he reached down to rub his throbbing knee.  “And I just walked into a metal piece of furniture,” he added with a snort.

“Bruised from jumping off a train, not something you hear every day. Between you and Ward we’re going to be out of ice packs soon,” Jemma teased.  “Sit quietly, I’ll be right back.  Did you take anything?”

“Yes ma’am,” Phil said with as much of a smile as he could muster up.  Jemma smiled slightly and turned to leave the lounge.

She stuck her head back in a minute later, tossing Phil the ice pack.  “Use that, I’m going to check on Skye.”

Phil propped his foot up on the table after pushing aside the chess board.  He sat quietly with the ice pack against his throbbing knee for all of a minute and a half.  “Any change?” he called to Jemma and Fitz who appeared to be making some adjustments to the controls.

“No better, no worse,” Fitz answered.

Phil hobbled back to the lab.  Fitz pushed the chair in his direction and motioned for him to have a seat. 

“Uh, I’m going to make tea.  Anyone care for a cup?” he asked, suddenly feeling the need to do something somewhat constructive.

“Tea sounds nice,” Jemma answered.  “Sir?” she asked in Phil’s direction.

“Please,” he replied not bothering to tease Jemma once again about her use of “sir”.

She pulled up a second chair next to Skye.  She tugged on Phil’s pants a little to get him to put his foot in her lap.  She carefully pushed up his pant leg and took a look at his knee.  She poked and prodded it a little until she agreed with Phil’s assessment that it was only a bruise.  She straightened out the pant leg and gently held the ice pack against his knee.  Like Fitz she needed to feel she was doing something.  Phil understood exactly how she felt.  He leaned against the machine keeping Skye alive, folding his arms and resting his chin on them.   

“Despite everything you really do care about her.  That’s nice,” Jemma whispered. “She needs somebody.”

“Not sure how nice I’ve been to her lately. Did she tell you about…about what Agent May and I…” Phil stuttered.

“She told me everything.  It was very nice and honorable of you to tell her.  That must have been very difficult, for you to say and for her to hear.”

“It was. But after….after everything, I’m tired of secrets.  She deserved to know the truth.”

“We all deserve the truth,” Simmons whispered as she reached to rub his shoulder a little.  “May I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Phil replied.

Before she could ask her question Fitz appeared with their tea.  It was clear to him they were in the middle of a conversation so he didn’t stick around.

Phil took a large sip of tea, nearly burning his tongue in the process.  He set the tea down and tiredly scrubbed his hands down his face.

“What is it about Skye? I mean we’ve all grown close but the two of you seem to have a special bond,” Jemma asked.

“I’ve actually wondered about that for a while.  I’ve had a lot of time to think…and brood lately. I think I’m starting to understand it a little. She reminds me of someone, or more precisely, she makes me think about someone who might have been.

“Might have been?  Sounds rather mysterious,” Jemma commented. 

“I don’t know about mysterious.  It was a long time ago,” Phil stated simply, not really sure if he wanted to get into a whole conversation about his past, his losses and what might have been.

“Secure the plane for landing in twenty,” May’s voice came over the intercom.

“I’d like to hear your story someday,” Jemma said quietly as she handed him the ice pack and got up to check on a few things.

Phil got up and pushed the chair aside as Ward and Fitz entered the lab to help secure the chamber for landing.

Twenty three minutes later the Bus was on the ground and the medical personnel rushed on to help Skye.

__________________

Less than an hour later Skye was in surgery.  Jemma had been offered a chance to go into the operating room but as much as the idea of observing such a surgery was thrilling to her she knew she would just be watching, not being helpful.  She felt she would be more useful in the waiting room, looking after the rest of the team, particularly the guys. 

Fitz was pacing around, as he had been doing since they arrived.  Shirt tails hanging out, hair completely mussed, he look even younger than he was. 

Ward was sitting in the corner, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands.  May was sitting next to him, hand resting on his back.  Neither had moved in a very long time.

Jemma had tried a few times to talk to all of them.  But after too many one word answers she gave up. 

The one she was most worried about was nowhere to be found.  She hadn’t seen Phil since 10 minutes after Skye had gone into the operating room.  He’d come into the private waiting room with the rest of the team, grabbed some coffee and walked out without a word.

“I’ll be back,” Simmons said to the room in general.  She got a nod from Fitz and no reaction from May and Ward as she walked out into the hallway.

It didn’t take her too long to find Phil.  He was sitting on a wide window ledge at the far end of the hall, looking out over the parking lot.  Sitting with his knees pulled up he had something in his hands.  As Jemma got closer she could tell he wasn’t just fidgeting and whispering to himself.  Rosary beads in hand, he was praying.  The sight caught Jemma slightly by surprise and she stopped walking towards him, not wanting to disturb what was clearly a very private moment. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Phil saw her walking towards him. When she stopped he continued reciting the words he’d learned long ago from Nana Margaret.  A minute later he crossed himself and put the rosary in the chest pocket of his suit jacket.  He turned towards Jemma and gestured for her to join him.

She smiled sadly.  “No news,” she said, answering the question before he could ask it.  Phil pulled his knees in a little closer, giving her room to join him.  As she kicked off her shoes and folded herself on the ledge, Phil shifted a little, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket.  He thumbed through it, clearly looking for something.  Pulling out what looked like a well-worn photograph he handed it wordlessly to Jemma.  She took it and looked at it carefully.  It was a picture of a clearly much younger Agent Coulson and a blond woman who, judging by the picture was about six or seven months pregnant.  It was a casual picture; they were standing on the beach, ocean behind them, squinting slightly in the sun.  Phil’s left arm was draped casually over her shoulder, the gold ring on his left hand clearly shining in the sun.  Jemma turned it over-OCEAN CITY NJ, 1989-was written in Phil’s small precise handwriting. Looking at the picture once more she ran her thumb over the image and silently handed it back to him.

“I had more hair back then,” he said with a small grin.  Jemma chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Her name was Abby.”

His use of the past tense didn’t slip by Jemma but she didn’t react, deciding to just let him tell her what he wanted, when he wanted.  She quickly made a mental note of at least half a dozen questions she would love to have answers to, but asked none.  She didn’t feel it was her place to pry.

“You can ask,” Phil said, offering nothing on his own at that moment.

Jemma thought for a minute, getting her questions in some kind of order. “You and Abby were..?” she started as she reached out to tap his left ring finger.

“Married?  Yes, for two years.”

“Was she with SHIELD?” Jemma asked curiously.

“Oh no,” Phil chuckled.  “About as far away from SHIELD as one could get, she was a pre-school teacher.  At the time I had been with SHIELD for about 5 years.  I was a junior agent, a very junior agent, assigned to a small field office in Philadelphia.  Desk job, by the way.  Hadn’t worked my way up to field work yet.”

He was about to continue when he turned and saw May walking towards him.  He slid off the ledge both  hopeful and scared to death about what she was going to say.

“They managed to stop the bleeding.  Now they have to stay in there and try to repair the damage.  Will be another few hours, at least.  Do you need anything?”

“No, we’re okay,” he said as he motioned towards Simmons who had moved to stand behind him. 

“I’m going to get back to Ward…and Fitz,” she added for good measure.

Despite the fact there was a lounge at the other end of the hall, Phil and Jemma settled themselves back down on the window ledge.  She sat sideways, pulling her knees back up.  He sat with his legs hanging over the edge, nervously swinging them a little.

“We met in March of 1986.  I had just moved to Philadelphia, I hadn’t even started at the field office yet.  It was an early Spring afternoon.  The kind of morning that gives hope after a long cold winter.  Snow piles were melting everywhere.  I was out running along the path that connects Independence Mall with what is now the site of the National Constitution Center.  I remember hearing some kind of commotion and I glanced over to see what was going on.  There was a large group of small children walking together.  They were holding onto one of those rope things, where each child had a loop to hold on to.  In the middle of the rope was an empty loop.  Abby was yelling for a little boy named Matthew.  As I started towards the group some movement at the edge of a large pile of snow caught my attention.  It was a little boy of about 4 climbing up to slide down the pile.  I yelled his name and he waved, unaware that he was missing.  I held out my hand and he grabbed it as Abby noticed us.  We were about 50 yards from the group.  She started running towards us.  I scooped up little Matthew and handed him back to his teacher.”

“And the rest is history?”

“Something like that.  Abby thanked me profusely and gave me her phone number.  Her home number, remember this was the days before cell phones,” Phil chuckled.  “I called her a few days later and we met for lunch the next Saturday.  Lunch turned into an afternoon of her showing me around the city, which led to dinner and a walk along the river despite the cool evening.  By the time I dropped her off, I was completely smitten.  Not something I had planned on happening.  I was a young, happily single SHIELD agent with no plans to settle down. “

“But she changed all that, didn’t she,” Jemma whispered. 

“That she did.  We started off slow, we were both very busy with our work, in addition to her teaching preschoolers, she taught piano in the evenings out of her living room.  Plus she was coming off a bad break up.  I hadn’t really dated all that much before Abby, to be honest.  I wasn’t the most socially adept guy around and I was happy being alone.  I guess that part hasn’t changed all that much really,” he said as he scooted back and turned to sit crossed legged facing Jemma.  “I can honestly say we were best friends in addition to being a couple.  She understood me and all my quirks.  I loved to just sit on the couch while she taught piano.  She was just so patient with the kids.  And she played beautifully.  Could hear something once and then play it by ear.  Guess I have a thing for musicians,” he chuckled, thinking for a second about Audrey.  “We were engaged a little over a year after we met.  I proposed in front of Independence Hall, near the spot where we’d first met.  Her parents had both died right after she finished college and she was an only child, so with only one family to please, we were married at St. Stephen’s Roman Catholic Church in Boston.  My grandmother, Nana Margaret had attended there for years.  Took me along with her when I was young. “

“That explains some things,” Jemma said as she reached out and lightly touch the chest pocket of his suit jacket.

“It’s where I fell in love with the whole ritual of Mass.  I liked the order of things, even back then.  Does my faith surprise you?” he asked curiously.

“A little bit, because of your position within SHIELD and the events of late.   I would find it hard to have such faith given what’s happened to you, both recently and, I suppose, in your past,” Jemma explained.

“It’s not easy but that’s what got me through, my faith and the memories of my grandmother have gotten me through many, many things over the years and in recent months.”  Phil fell silent for a minute as his emotions started to get the best of him, looking out the window while he struggled to get things in check.  Jemma offered him a tissue which he took gratefully.  He blew his nose and shoved the used tissue in his jacket pocket.  “Anyway, we settled in her apartment because it was bigger and decidedly less bachelor like than mine.  We were just like any other newlywed couple.”

“With the exception of half the couple working for a classified governmental agency,” Jemma said with a smile.

“Yeah, there was that,” Phil smiled back.  “But otherwise we were fairly normal.  We had our work, our outside interests.  We had a nice little life together.  I was starting to move up in the ranks of SHIELD.  Was being considered for a field position and had entered the physical training program in early 1989.  It was ridiculously difficult, physically as well as emotionally.  But Abby was my rock, kept me going when all I wanted to do was quit.  I had a break in my training that January and we went away to the Bahamas.  Spent a week in the sun and sand.  When we returned she just wasn’t herself.  We found out a month later there was a reason for that, she was pregnant.  We had talked about having kids but more in an abstract sense.  We did want them just hadn’t decided when to start trying.  Certainly hadn’t planned on her getting pregnant at that time.  But I guess God had other plans.  After we wrapped our heads around the idea of becoming parents we settled down.  Would have liked to have set down roots and bought a house but homeownership doesn’t really fit in with the unpredictability of working for SHIELD.”  Jemma nodded in agreement as Phil started to fidget a bit.  She did a little calculating and figured if Abby was already pregnant there was not a whole lot of the story left to tell.

Phil slid to the floor to walk around for a minute, having gotten rather stiff from sitting still.  Jemma stayed on the ledge, watching him move as she tried to gauge how much pain he was in.  Looked like a lot from where she was.

“God, I feel old,” Phil muttered as he leaned over a little, trying to stretch out his back.

“Why don’t you step outside and get a bit of air?  I’ll get you some Advil.”

“Thanks.  I’ll finish the story when you get back.  There’s not much left,” he said sadly.

Jemma walked past him with a quick pat on the back.  She looked back over her shoulder as she turned the corner, watching as he wiped at his eyes and headed for the door.

__________________

Jemma checked on May, Ward and Fitz.  All were sprawled out over the couches in the waiting room, exhausted from the long day, too worried and upset to do much else.  May and Ward were talking quietly and Fitz had actually managed to fall asleep.  Simmons knelt down, pushed back his curls and planted a kiss on his forehead before covering him up with a blanket she found in the closet.

After getting two Advil out of her bag and a bottle of water from the fridge she headed back to find Coulson.  Although she knew his story was going to have a tragic ending she wanted to hear the end of it.  The whole conversation, although sad, gave her a glimpse into the real Phillip Coulson, the man Phil did his best to keep fairly well hidden from view.

She found out another one of his well kept secrets when she stepped outside.  As he turned to see her walk out the door he quickly stubbed out the cigarette he’d been smoking.

“I’m just finding out all kinds of interesting things about you tonight aren’t I?” she said as she gave him the pills and water and then held out her hand towards him.  He eyed her hand, not realizing what the gesture meant.  “Hand over the cigarettes,” she said.

“I bummed that one off the security guard,” Phil admitted.  “Haven’t smoked one in a very, very long time.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Jemma said as she took his arm and steered him in the direction of a nearby bench.

“So the summer before Abby was due we went on what was to be one last vacation as just a couple.  We went to Ocean City.  That’s where the picture I showed you came from.  We rented a house a block and a half from the beach.  Spent a week on the beach, walking the boardwalk, just hanging out with each other.  We ate ice cream and played Skee Ball. She was a fierce competitor.  The last night we were there we rode the carousel.  It was an old fashioned one, complete with the ancient brass rings that came down on the arm as you went around.  I still have the one I caught.  It’s in my office on the Bus in box with our wedding rings and….and some other things,” he said cryptically.

“We don’t have to do this now,” Jemma said quietly as she gave his hand a quick squeeze. 

“I want to finish the story.  It’s been so long since I talked about Abby, about our life and about…about our child.” 

“Okay.”

“We got back home to Philadelphia and I went back to my physical training.  Abby was off for the summer so she spent time nesting.  She decorated the nursery, got everything ready for the baby, all while talking me off the proverbial ledge every night. 

“You really had so little confidence in yourself?” Jemma asked curiously.

“Back then, I suppose I didn’t have that much confidence.  Guess I got that with age,” he smirked a little.

Phil’s facial expression and mood changed in an instant as he took a deep breath to continue his story. “Abby was due at the end of October.  At the end of September, the 28th to be exact we had had a rough day.  I had gotten an earful from my Supervising Officer and was in a pissy mood.  Abby was just plain uncomfortable by that stage and I wasn’t exactly being my usual supportive self that night.  I’d gotten home, taken a shower and just wanted to sit on the couch and relax.  Apparently I had completely forgotten we were supposed to go out.  Because we were both so busy, when we’d gotten back from the beach we made it a point to have “date night” once a week.  It was time to reconnect and to make plans.  Abby tried not to be annoyed with me that night, but I know she was.  She tried to get me to change my mind, to just go out and do something.  But I was honestly exhausted and stupidly stubborn.  She tried to tempt me with ice cream but I wasn’t budging.  She finally gave up, put her hair up, threw her sneakers on and said she was going to walk around the corner to the ice cream shop to get take out.”

Phil took a deep breath and stood up, he knew he was going to get upset at the rest of the story came out.  He wanted to put a little distance between himself and Simmons so he could just get it out.  She understood and stayed where she was on the bench.

“I remember I was stretched out on the couch and she leaned over to kiss me before she left. The kiss was somehow…I don’t know, different.  Not your normal, I’ll be back in ten minutes kiss.  For that I will be eternally grateful.   It had been rainy lightly that evening but it had stopped by the time Abby went out.  Unfortunately, the roads were still wet.  As she was standing on the corner waiting for the WALK sign a car skidded on the wet pavement and jumped the curb.”  Jemma gasped but stayed where she was, knowing that was his wish.  He looked at her and continued.  “She was alive when she got to the hospital and hanging on by a thread when I got there.  She had massive head trauma and wasn’t conscious but I’m sure she knew I was there.  The doctors came in and told me what I already knew, there was nothing they could do.  We shifted our attention to the baby.  They took Abby to the OR and delivered our daughter.  They whisked her off to the NICU while I said my final goodbyes to Abby.  I took her off her wedding ring and kissed her goodbye as the nurse was urging me to be with the baby.”

Phil stopped talking and sat back down on the bench, Jemma handed him the bottle of water and rubbed his back while he concentrated on breathing deeply for a minute.  He drank a little water and composed himself to continue.

“We named her Maggie, after Nana Margaret.  We had just picked names the week before.  We had chosen James if the baby had been a boy, my grandfather’s name.  She was obviously born under traumatic circumstances and had suffered some internal injuries.  She underwent emergency surgery and held her own for about 24 hours.  When it was clear there was nothing they would be able to do they unhooked her from the machines and let me hold her.  She was so cute, she had Abby’s blond hair and my blue eyes.  The nurse took a few pictures of us and then left us alone.  Safe in my arms she died an hour later.  For years I blamed myself.  If I had remembered our date night we would have been out together, she…they would have been safe.  The guilt was overwhelming and it almost destroyed me.  And now 24 years later I feel that same guilt.”

Phil leaned back and stared up at the night sky.  Jemma turned sideways to face him, reaching to hold his hand.  She wiped away her own tears and fished tissues out for both of them.  

“Maggie died on September 30, 1989, three days before Skye was born. “

“And that explains it,” Jemma whispered.  Phil just nodded as he sat up, leaning over with his elbows on his knees.  “You see in Skye what Maggie might have been.”

“Yeah,” Phil whispered, too drained to give more than a one word answer.

“It explains the relationship you two have and most of all, it explains the guilt you feel tonight,” Jemma said quietly.  Phil just nodded again in agreement.

Silently they sat side by side.  Jemma was completely worked up trying to comprehend all Phil had just told her.  Phil was just numb.  It had been a long time since he’d told the story of Abby and Maggie.  So few people knew what he had been through.  May knew but they never talked about it.  He thought about the small wooden box on his bookshelf, next to his Captain America shield paperweight.  Inside the box were their two wedding rings, the pictures of himself and Maggie, the hospital ID bracelet from Maggie’s tiny wrist and the brass ring from the carousel in Ocean City.  It had been years since he opened that box, years since he visited the cemetery in Boston, years since he let himself wonder how things might have been.

Phil sat up, took a deep shaky breath and swiped at his eyes.  “We should probably go check on things,” he muttered as he stood up.  He held out his hand to Jemma and pulled her to her feet.  She smiled sadly and pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m very honored that you shared your story with me, thank you,” she whispered as she rubbed his back.

“You’re more than welcome,” Phil said quietly as he kissed her cheek.

Jemma took him by the arm and they headed inside to check on Skye.

THE END


End file.
